


Love's Caress

by heuradys



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Other, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-24
Updated: 2001-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heuradys/pseuds/heuradys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A most unexpected and tragic domestic disturbance hits Blair hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love's Caress

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure when this was first published, but 2001 is probably a good guess.

"Check upstairs, Chief," Jim had ordered as they'd arrived at the scene of a domestic with shots fired and he took charge of the half-dressed, gun-wielding woman whose emotions were seesawing from stony rage to hysterical tears who'd greeted them at the door, calmly and quickly disarming her.

Minutes earlier, he'd been happily arguing with Jim about everything and nothing as they drove home from dinner. Now he was sweating and unhappy, passing quickly through familiar rooms accompanied by the drunken shrillness of Kari's voice as she yelled at Jim, at him, and remembering the two bullets that had only just missed them as they'd come up the walk. He scanned the shadows, his stomach tense, more than half hoping that the house would prove empty, that Kari was just reacting to a break in.

As he climbed the stairs to their bedroom, gun he'd never wanted to carry at the ready, he heard Jim's voice again. "Calm down, Kari. What happened?"

He tuned them out, staying focused, moving slowly. "Rafe," he called, "It's Blair... You here? C'mon, man..." The bathroom was empty. He took a deep breath, edging toward the partially open bedroom door. Small noises emerged from behind the white-painted wood. "Rafe? That you?"

A rustling thud followed by a puffy streak of white fur streaking past him startled him. Snowball, Rafe's obese, elderly Persian cat, stopped at the head of the stairs, looked at him and mewed disdainfully.

"Don't do that," Blair whispered when he got his heart to slow a fraction. He gingerly pushed open the door with his weapon. He raised his voice again. "Rafe, I'm coming in. I'm armed -" He stepped into the doorway, and the rest of his words died in his throat.

Blair stared at the ruin that had been Brian Rafe, feeling like a mule had kicked him in the chest. His gorgeous friend with his weakness for designer sodas, tuna salad with pineapple, Ren and Stimpy, Eighteenth Century Germanic poetry - no more. A corpse, sprawled like he was asleep in the ruined bed awash with blood and brains, wearing incongruously cheerful Snoopy boxers and nothing more. A book, pages crumpled and spine cracked, lay on the floor beside the bed.

"Oh my god..."

He barely made it to the bathroom. The furry dark blue rug in front of the toilet hardly diffused the impact of his knees hitting the floor, but that pain couldn't distract him from his emotional pain as he retched.

"Chief?" Jim's quiet voice eventually interrupted his sporadic dry-heaving. The bathroom door closed, and Jim approached him, sitting on the floor beside him. "You going to be okay?"

He didn't look up. It took his throat three times to get the words out. "Jim... Jim, he's dead. Shot... she shot him."

"Yeah," Jim murmured bitterly. His hand rested on Blair's shoulder, slipping over to cup the nape of his neck. "With his own weapon."

Blair twisted abruptly to meet Jim's eyes in shock and anger. "Why? For fuck's sake, why?" He didn't wait for the answer. "I introduced them, Jim! They were perfect together! God, the wedding's - was - in a month! He's been working his ass off to afford the honeymoon..." Jim's fingers massaged his neck, and Blair's eyes burned with tears. Trying to blink them away, he looked down at his own gun, still in his hand. He dropped it, feeling like it was burning him. "He loved her so fucking much, man... and I thought she loved him..." His tears spilled over.

Jim pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his temple and ear, and Blair willingly buried his face against Jim's shoulder, hugging just as tightly in return, drawing immense comfort from someone he knew - knew - loved him utterly. Several mostly silent minutes passed between them; Blair could vaguely hear the usual sounds of a crime scene, muted by the door. He knew that the only reason they were being left alone was that Kari was in custody. He indulged himself a bit longer with the luxury of tears, the privacy and the comfort, to remember Rafe's radiant smile when he'd come into work and announced his engagement, other moments that were painfully bittersweet now, then took a few deep breaths, pulling himself together. Jim's arms relaxed around him as his own relaxed around Jim.

"She did love him, Chief, she did." Jim's voice was steady as he explained, yet Blair knew that Rafe's death disturbed him as deeply as it did Blair himself. "She told me he'd been cheating on her..."

Blair lifted his head. "What? When? He's barely had time to sleep lately!"

"At work." The words were clipped, Jim's expression unreadable.

"Jim, he works with nothing but guys. Simon, Joel, Henri, you - and me." Jim was silent, his lips thinning as Blair spoke, and Blair groaned when he realized what that implied, what those two shots Kari had directed their way implied. "No... Jim, no, not me..."

Jim leaned against the vanity, staring at the wall that separated them from Rafe's body with its four wounds. He nodded once, his eyes sad.

Blair closed his eyes again, unable to prevent a shudder of memory. Head, two to the chest, and one - "That explains the..." He made a vague downward gesture, shifting uncomfortably, feeling Jim shift similarly.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "I know this won't make you feel any better, but I think that happened last."

Blair swallowed. "You're right, it doesn't." He wiped his tear-slimy face with the back of his hand, guilt boiling in his empty stomach and twisting it in more knots. "I don't think anything will."

Jim's arms tightened around him again, squeezing briefly. "Time, Chief," he murmured, "just time."

Blair shook his head as Jim released him and stood. "And love, Jim." He accepted the hand Jim offered to help him stand.

"You've got that, Blair," Jim whispered, gently brushing Blair's hair out of his face and planting a kiss on his forehead. "Simon and Joel are here. We should -"

Blair cut him off. "Jim. I need... I need forgiveness, too."

"I'm sure Rafe -"

"Not from him." Blair met Jim's eyes, his heart in his throat. "From you."

"For what, Chief?" Jim looked honestly puzzled.

"Uh... well..." Blair swallowed hard. "If... if I'd never met you, I could have fallen for him hard. We..."

"Go on," Jim murmured.

"We talked about it last night," Blair continued. "While you were at dinner with Simon, and we were out, too. It's one..." He took a deep breath. "It's one of the reasons I fixed him up with Kari so fast when she started angling for me. Well, long story short, he told me that... well, he felt the same, sometimes. We almost kissed, Jim."

To Blair's bewilderment, Jim's face had cleared while he spoke. "Well, don't worry, Chief. I know he didn't tell Kari about that, and I already knew." Jim trailed a finger down the side of Blair's face in the gentlest caress before turning and opening the door.

He thought he heard Jim mutter something under his breath, thought he saw the edge of a smile on Jim's lips in the mirror. A feeling sicker than any he'd felt so far that night crept up his spine, and he shivered. "Jim?"

Jim turned, his face wiped clean of the possible smile. "Yeah?"

"How did you know?"

Another brief smile. "I'm a sentinel, Chief, remember?"

Jim patted his cheek softly, then Jim was gone, heading for the first floor and their captain, leaving him to pick up his gun and follow. But he didn't. He looked at it for a long moment, then stared at his chalk-pale reflection in the mirror, hearing again those hardly audible words.

"It's not a problem anymore."

He slammed the door, wrapped his arms around himself, and leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor. "Oh my god..."

**Author's Note:**

> Original story notes
> 
> This is not a happy story, and I don't know where it came from. Thanks to Ihket for the title and to her and Gina for being my sounding board/test audience. To Wolf, who'll not be reading this story, I'm sure someone will write something that won't make you cry soon...


End file.
